Broken
by pjzallday
Summary: Part Two of "The Healing Trilogy": A badly beaten Buffy returns home to sympathetic arms.


FEEDBACK: Always welcome (and usually appreciated).

RATING: PG-13

CHARACTERS: Buffy, Spike

DISCLAIMER: The characters aren't mine, I borrowed them because people insisted on a sequel.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This ficlet follows "Torn" --- which is canon up to and including the end of "Never Leave Me" (7x09).

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BROKEN

Saved only by the rising sun, Buffy dragged her battered and bloody body from the cab she'd taken back to the Summers' home.  The driver must have asked half a dozen times on the short trip if she wouldn't rather go to the emergency room, but Buffy insisted she'd be fine.  Inwardly, she was quite certain of the contrary.  Though she knew her injuries would heal with time, she doubted whether she'd actually have the luxury of that time.

Clearly this thing that had been raised by the First was indeed more powerful than any ordinary vampire, perhaps even any other demon Buffy had ever faced.  It would take more than a good quip and a stake to destroy this creature.  This was an opponent Buffy would not defeat easily or alone.  Buffy knew that she would be in no condition to take on the Ubervamp again until she recovered from the damage done by this first encounter.  Dismally, she couldn't help but worry about the fate of the people of Sunnydale in the interim.

Pushing open the front door, weak and in agony, Buffy was met by the worried faces of the other inhabitants of the house:  Willow and Dawn who were leaving to go to school, and Spike who appeared to be getting ready for bed.

"Buffy!" a distressed-looking Dawn cried out.

"God Buffy!  What's happened?" Willow asked.

Spike simply stood stoic at the sight of the diminutive and damaged Slayer.

"Guys." she began in a short excruciating breath, "Could you. give me a hand upstairs?"

Willow and Dawn rushed to Buffy's aid.  As the three young women climbed the stairs, Buffy peered down and met Spike's grief-stricken blue eyes.  He soon cast his gaze to the floor and headed to the basement for the day. 

Buffy knew from the look on his face that he felt regret at not having been by her side to help last night.  Perhaps he even felt responsible, for it had been his blood that opened the seal unleashing the Ubervamp upon this world.  He'd still not fully recovered from the time spent under the torture of the First --- neither physically nor emotionally.  The blood-loss had weakened his body and the mind-control (and acts which Spike had committed while under it) had damaged his already fragile spirit. 

Still, it was Buffy's admission of belief in Spike that got him through the pain and torment of the First and he would do whatever was necessary to get through this recovery period as well.  Though they both suspected that human blood would have provided much more needed nutrients than pig's blood, they agreed it would be best if he was fully weaned of it for the moment.  Buffy had insisted in the few nights that had passed since she'd brought him home that he stay behind to continue his recuperation while she patrolled.

***

Willow helped Buffy off with her coat then down onto her bed while Dawn went to the bathroom for a basin of warm water and a cloth to clean Buffy's face and hands. 

Buffy allowed the two to fuss over her a while before encouraging them to go to school.  "I'll be alright, guys.  I just need some rest," she assured, trying to feign a smile.  "Maybe one of you could pick something up for dinner tonight?" she suggested, hoping to give the girls something else on which to focus their energies. 

"Buffy, we'll look after things," Willow affirmed as she took Dawn's hand and led her out of the room.

"Oh, and Dawn," Buffy called her sister back.  "Could you tell Principal Wood I've. ah. been in an accident or something?"

Dawn nodded.  "Sure Buffy.  No problem."  Then she closed Buffy's door behind herself.

Buffy inhaled shallowly, sucking air through her teeth as pain surged on one side of her ribcage.  Touching her hand lightly to the burning on her cheek, she knew there would be a bruise.  As she lowered her hand, she examined the pair:  both hands were badly scraped and bloodied. Carefully, she pushed herself to standing and stepped to the full-length mirror in the corner of the room to assess the more serious damage. At the sight of the discoloured face, she squinted; no wonder the cab driver was so concerned.  Tentatively, she unbuttoned and opened her top.  One side of her torso was hideously bruised and she knew at least two maybe four of her ribs on that side had been cracked.  As she started to unfasten her jeans, Buffy was overcome by the searing pain and frustration at what should have been a simple task:  changing clothes. She sat down, elbows on her desk, head in hands, and began to cry. 

Suddenly, Buffy sensed a familiar presence.  Looking up from her hands, she turned to the door just before she heard the soft rapping upon it.  Brushing the tears from her face, Buffy stood up.  She cleared her throat and made every effort to look the part of the strong Slayer when she responded to the knock, "Yes?"

Slowly the door opened and Spike appeared.  "Are you alright?"

"Spike, I-" she winced.  "I was just changing."

"'M sorry, pet.  I'll just get out of your way then," he replied hastily as he retreated to the hall.

"Spike!" Buffy called in a plea for help.

Instantly back at the door, he inquired with concern, "What is it, Buffy?"

"This is probably gonna sound really lame, but."  She looked away as she spoke, "I can't get my pants off."  Then she began to sob.  Looking up at him with anguish on her face, she continued, "It hurts too much to bend.  I don't know what to do.  It's so hard.  That thing is so strong.  Everything is getting so out of control.  Again!  I just can't do this. I can't!"  She fought in frustration against the waist of her jeans.

"Buffy," his voice was warm and calming as he approached.  "You can.  Let me help you."  

Looking up to meet his face, Buffy knew Spike wasn't just referring to her pants.  In spite of everything that had changed between them, Buffy was confident that one thing held ever strong:  Spike would give his life for her.  She smiled shyly and nodded. 

Crouching beside her, he carefully eased the denim down her toned golden legs. 

She gasped and closed her eyes.

Spike startled and leaned back, quickly pulling his hands clear of her body.  "God luv, I'm sorry.  Did I hurt you?" he asked, brows knitted.

"No. um.  It's OK," she insisted, embarrassed by the real reason for the catching of her breath.  Seemed there was another thing that was true:  Buffy was still aroused by Spike's touch.  She cleared her throat then reached for a pair of sweats.

As she began to put on the soft loose pants, Spike stood up.  "Right then.  I'll be downstairs if you need anything."

"Spike."  Straightening too abruptly, Buffy winced again then grabbed at the sharp sting in her side.  Looking to him, her discomfort was evident in her expression and her tone as she admitted, "I could use some help with." Hesitantly, she showed him the darkly mottled area of her torso. 

Fear and dread came to Spike's face as he spied the gruesome marks on her tiny beaten body.  "Buffy." at first, was all that passed his lips. 

Self-conscious, Buffy turned away and covered her injuries.

Spike found his words, breaking what had been only a brief but awkward silence.  "Have you got bandages or some such?  We'll need to splint those ribs."

"I know." she sighed.  "There should be some in the bottom drawer.  Would you mind?" she asked, motioning to the armoire. 

"I'll get 'em," he replied, stealthily moving to the drawer Buffy had indicated.  When he'd found the rolls, he returned to Buffy's side setting them on the desk.  Cocking then dipping his head slightly to meet her eyes, Spike looked to Buffy for approval as he took a light hold of the shoulders of her blouse.

With her chin down but wide green eyes meeting his compassionate gaze, Buffy pursed her lips and nodded almost imperceptibly. 

Spike slipped the blouse slowly down her arms and draped it over the chair.  Standing perpendicular at her battered side, he took one of the rolled bandages.  Placing an end and a gentle hand to her back, Spike began to wrap the cloth below the damaged area and winding up her ribcage.

As his arms reached around her --- though their skin never touched --- she could feel him.  The air between them:  electric.  His breath was cool on her shoulders as he took in her essence.  Thinking of him. sensing his closeness made her own breaths more shallow.  Irregular.  Hot.  On a final pass of a second bandage, his arm brushed under her breast sending chills through her.  She tensed and bit her lip to contain the gasp as she turned her face to look at him.

Together they stood staring deeply into each other's eyes. Buffy could feel her heart race with excitement; pound in anticipation.  As Spike leaned toward her, Buffy swallowed hard with her eyes fluttering.

Breaking their gaze, Spike secured the end of the bandage.  "There you are, luv," he said simply as he fastened the last clip.

Buffy huffed softly with disappointment at the breaking of the moment, but soon she was met by firm yet tender cool lips on her exposed shoulder and a feather-light caress that almost floated across her back.  She shuddered at the sensation.  As he pulled away, she turned to him. "Spike, I-"  She shifted her eyes as if searching for what to say next.  Her heart was once again pounding hard in her chest while an uncertainty crossed her face.  "Would you. stay with me now?" 

Smiling proudly, he cradled the side of her face in his hand.  Spike leaned toward her and grazed Buffy's lips with a soft slow kiss.  As he stepped back, their shining eyes met and he declared, "Until the end of the world."


End file.
